Thirty minutes and (eyes downcast) forty-eight bucks later, I was back in the car and headed for home, my wallet lighter and the guilt already settling in. By the time I got home, I was ready for a bath and my pjs. Never, other than those times of wretched illness, have I found myself ready for bed by 3 pm.
I can still hear my inner drill sergeant snarking about sucking it up and something about bootstraps and mentally flip him the bird. My inner crybaby was pouting while my drama queen rolled her eyes and huffed. So much to do and no motivation to do it. Screw ’em all!! Hey, maybe that’s my problem…too many voices for one head. Don’t they make pills for that?
At any rate, I claimed yesterday for whiners everywhere. In a day or so I’ll be thoroughly embarrassed at this post and will be forced to hide under a rock.